Departed
by Eitan
Summary: Jyn didn't hide as her father asked her to and is taken along by Krennic. Thirteen years later Jyn graduates from the ISB Academy of Officers. She applies for Imperial Intelligence, requesting to be put under Director Krennic's charge in hope to work for him as a spy, whilst secretly helping the rebels in their fight against the Empire (Written for Day2 Jynnicweek)
1. Going Rogue

**A/N**

 _For some reasons (I probably wouldn't even be able to comprehend them if they slapped me in the face) I developed a thing for Jyn & Orson Krennic ever since I read the _Rogue One - A Star Wars Story _novilization by Alexander Freed. It provided me with so much background info and insight about the characters that Krennic now is ranked among my favorite villains. It also explains some of the reactions we see in the movie but without context seemed a little bit confusing (like why the hell Krennic smiles that creepy smile after Vader force choked him)._

 _This piece (especially the first chapter) was written for #Day2 (31st January) of **#JynnicWeek.** Topic: Alternate Universe._

 _It entertains the thought how Jyn's story would have turned if she left_ _Lah'mu with her father instead of being taken under Saw's wings. The main plot stays the same: Galen manipulated the Death Star and tries to get into contact with the Rebel Alliance. Jyn, who in the meantime graduated as an Imperial Officer, is going to take on the role as a double agent, trying to earn the trust of the Rebels in order to deliver her father's message._

 _This said, it is a fic that focuses on the relationship between Jyn and Krennic, using their actions and motives as a narrative framework to set the events of  
_ Rogue One _into motion._

 **WARNING:** AU; implications (but nothing explicit) of rape and tortue; Krennic being Krennic; mention of OCs **  
**

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~oOo~

 **Chapter I** _ **:** Going Rogue_

~oOo~

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 **Name** Erso

 **Given Name** Jyn

 **IOCIN** CO6-170822EJ

 **Gender** Female

 **Born** 22BBY

 **Place of Birth** Lokori

 **Father** Galen Walton Erso

 **Mother** Lyra Erso

 **Senior Academy** Royal Imperial Academy 7-4BBY

So it had come to this.

Orson Krennic closed the file in front of him and settled back against his armchair, the back of his knuckles brushing lightly over his lips in deep concentration. Amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth. Yes, who would have thought? Certainly not him. It was a surprise, albeit a pleasant one, to say the least.

He never thought the youngest Erso would make it – he had reasons and none of them even had the slightest bit to do with her as a person but everything to do with Lyra's pesky influence: Jyn was her mother's daughter. Righteous, easy to provoke (especially into making a fatal mistake) and a misguided, obsolete understanding of good and evil. Lyra was passionate about the things important to her – Krennic admited as much – but she was never able to put aside her own delusional and idealistic views on justice and freedom in favor of a more complex approach. It always seemed to him as if she never realized there was a difference between doing the good thing and doing the right thing.

This being said, he actually did feel something akin to a shadow of the overwhelming condition of sheer bliss that transforms all parents into mentally incompetent fools, when Galen announced Lyra's pregnancy to him. Not a path Krennic had ever considered for himself (and neither for Galen, as a matter of fact) but he accepted it and in a way he had hoped, it would steady Galen more in his decisions, figuring as he now wasn't any longer only responsible for his life alone but for that of his child's as well.

This shadow of benevolence vanished quickly on the day Lyra gave birth to Jyn. He remembered the ping of mild annoyance when Lyra – drunk by happiness and glowing form after-birth – presented the little bundle in her arms to him. There was a glint of defiance in her eyes as if she thought, Krennic had lost for good.

Ironically enough, up until that moment he hadn't even thought about using the latest addition to the Erso family for any of his schemes. After all, she was just an infant and only in time her talents would come forth. Maybe a sharp mind like her father. Maybe her mother's strike for adventure and exploration.

But no.

In that moment Lyra foolishly determined what she thought her daughter represented for Krennic: a weapon – to put more distance between him and Galen and to tie him tighter to his family than to the will of the Empire. And thus evoked Krennic to roll this inconvenience up and down, to and fro in his head.

 _Oh Lyra,_ Krennic mused, _You always misjudged me._

She put that bee in his bonnet and only then Krennic amused the thought to use Jyn as impetus for cooperation. Lyra decided what he would do with Jyn before he even got the chance to know her. After that he didn't saw Jyn for Jyn but for the nuisance she most certainly would turn into under Lyra's influence: a constant sting in his work just like her mother.

The first and only time he felt this assumption to be justified, was on their way back to Coruscant after the unfortunate incident on Lah'mu had taken place.

Krennic had never wanted Lyra to die. He truly hadn't. She had been the one person Galen confined in the most, his partner and Krennic knew that taking her away from him would have resulted in nothing but utter devastation and thus, in less progress. Krennic had allowed her interferences and occasional indelicate attitudes toward the Empire only because eliminating her would have caused run more trouble than gain in the long run. But it happened anyway. He had given Lyra all the chances he had and she – foolish as ever – had thrown them away. And for what? What did she think he would do to Galen? Nothing his old friend wouldn't have wanted. Galen, ever the reasonable one, too loath to admit his own genius and to claim what he wants as his own, just needed a little push in the right direction every now and then.

Krennic regretted Lyra's death – not because of her but because for Galen's sake. And, after he had observed his daughter aboard the shuttlecraft, for her's, too.

The girl hadn't cried. Neither had Galen. Krennic had been glad that she hadn't. But she hadn't been at the side of her mother either, stroking her face and hand like Galen had. No. She sat with her father, close enough to be sure of his warmth and comfort, but her eyes were trained on Krennic.

He never knew that the color green could hold such vicious fire and ferocity – even less when the color belonged to the eyes of a child. Krennic could not recall how old exactly Jyn was at that time but she wasn't old enough yet to form a sense for morality all on her own or to interpret facts without prejudice.

He looked into her eyes and knew: for her he was the monster. Any attempt to integrate her into the Imperial system was meant to fail at this point. Krennic, of course, didn't leave it at that. He tried. Over the course of the years he has kept both father and daughter under his supervision and cordiality as often as time and obligations allowed him to.

Without Lyra, Galen was finally completely absorbed in his work, solving engineering problems and scientific setbacks that had plagued their progress for months.

As for Jyn: she tolerated Krennic's presence whenever he visited, though it took years until the last remnant of loathing vanished from her eyes. Lyra's influence unfortunately stayed – Jyn only became more accustomed to hide it underneath the surface. He never saw a glimpse of it ever again, although he knew it was still there when she had turned fifteen and informed him and her father over dinner that she had applied for the Royal Imperial Academy.

To say he was stunned would have undermined the twisted amusement he felt when thinking about the possibility of Lyra's daughter being turned into a loyal instrument of the Galactic Empire. Fifteen, born in a Separatist prison on Vallt and without having undertaken the one-year junior training in advance, Krennic had known her chances of getting admitted would be slim.

So had her father. Galen had sat there in silence while Krennic had raised his glass in toast and immersed Jyn into a never-ending train of questions and thoughts to which, to his delight, she had given more than her usual one-line and one-word answers. Eventually Galen had nodded his head and to his credit: it almost had looked more like an approval than a defeat.

This had been all Krennic had needed. An order via hologram to alter Jyn's birth place, one or two granted favors among colleagues and a recommendation letter to Commandant Deenlark later and Jyn was accepted at the academy without any further questioning.

Yes, back then Krennic didn't think Jyn would make it further than maybe the first of the three scheduled years of the program.

As far as he had come to know her, she doesn't scare easily and stayed level-headed even in the most challenging situations. Though he doubted the instructors would be able to come up with a more emotionally devastating situation than what little Jyn already had to experience when her mother died. He predicted that none of her instructors probably would know how to intimidate her in the way which would be required in order to keep her disobedience and undisciplined tendencies at bay. To some extent she always was and most certainly will always have a trace of feral behavior – a quality, especially combined with her fierce nature when challenged, becoming more and more of relevance for future Imperial Officers in the face of a growing Rebel Alliance.

Still. Being Lyra's child and Jyn's resolution at a young age to distrust everything remotely Imperial had Krennic expecting to find a notification from Commandant Deenlark on his desk one day, informing him about Cadet Erso's drop out or dishonorable discharge. Maybe even imprisonment. Obviously he had been proven wrong.

He picked up her file again and flipped through the pages to the transcript of records listing all of Jyn's test results of the three-year program at the Royal Imperial Academy. She excelled in all her piloting, physical combat and martial arts courses as well as in close and long range weaponry and classes which required leadership skills or tested analytical thinking. Even her academic achievements were ranked among the top five of her year including _Core Worlds Classical Culture_ , _Policies of the Old Republic_ , _Outer Rim Languages_ and her additional classes _The Art of War_ and _Ancient Philosophy_.

Krennic raised a brow at Jyn's choice of extra classes. It was clear to him where she wanted to go with this – was it the moment Commandant Deenlark reported Jyn's progress at the end of each year back to him. What didn't come to him as a surprise was, that points in some of her science classes were notable lower. Like Galen she was a quick learner but unfortunately she didn't possess any of his genius. Interesting was also that, though she passed every single psychological evaluation, she couldn't hide all of her less desirable character traits.

One of her professors in the second half of her second year noted

 _[Document #PE4/6 (Regarding CO7-170822EJ), carried out by Prof. Horado Etars]_

 _There is no hard evidence of Cadet Erso's loyalty or disloyalty to the Galactic Empire. An aversion toward hierarchy structures is apparent but contained by Erso's sense of duty (particularly for her fellow cadets) – should be exploited. High survival instinct and level of endurance. Strong-minded with the capacity to surpass all previous accomplishments. Disregard for close-minded individuals. Still unsuitable for Starfleet or Ground Forces. Recommended for specialized officer-training._

Krennic couldn't hold the scoff back. It seemed that – if nothing else – at least his dislike for men like Wilhuff Tarkin and his affinity to strive for bigger things than himself rubbed off at the youngest Erso. He was glad it turned out like this. Jyn not only posed no longer a distraction for Galen and his work, but she also had a bright future as an Imperial Officer ahead of her. Furthermore she developed skills Krennic actually found useful.

He scanned through the next page. Another report. This time from her hand-to-hand combat instructor

 _[Document #MA15-Y5/6 (Regarding incident between CO6-170822EJ and CO6-120523VT), witnessed by Einir Helyg and sent to further investigation to_ _Commandant Deenlark]_

 _Paired Cadet Erso and Cadet Vil for 15th physical training unit as instructed as both cadets show great potential and already mastered basic and advanced combat training. Although having smaller and leaner physiological traits in contrast to her opponent, Cadet Erso easily dominated the fight. As already shown in previous training units, Cadet Erso has a raw talent for swiftness and precision, but fails to distance herself emotionally before the fight consumes her. As a result she loses herself in the fight instead of the mission. Cadet Vil almost killed during this training unit. Upon asking why she lost control, Cadet Erso failed to provide answers. Requesting individual training for Cadet Erso. Hologram recording attached._

Krennic clicked the number attached on the datapad delivered to him along with Jyn's file and application. Cadets killed in training wasn't as scarce as instructor Helyg made it out to be, albeit a cadet almost killed by a fellow cadet during training and under supervision was due to raise a few eyebrows. It irked Krennic that he hadn't been informed about this incident by Deenlark.

The hologram record started playing.

There was Jyn dressed like a trainee, a smirk on her face as another cadet – male, close to her age, athletic build – came up to her. When he didn't show any intentions to slow down, Jyn pushed her flat hand as a warning against his chest but when he grabbed her wrist, she switched her hand upwards to shake him off and sent him flying with her other one to the ground. The off-screen voice of the instructor talking about the focus of today's training unit stopped immediately. Jyn's opponent, sprawled out on the ground, started laughing and even Jyn couldn't hide a small smile.

This piqued Krennic's interest. They obviously knew each other, probably even befriended each other since they were both top of their year. _So how did they end up almost killing each other?_ Krennic mused and watched as Jyn took a different fighting stance, awaiting the next move.

She was never the one to attack first, he noted and although her fellow cadet, based on his body proportions, should have been able to dominate her, Jyn clearly outmatched him. She was agile and strong like a young tree but lethal and ruthless like a predator. Her movements happened with a swiftness almost impossible to follow with the naked eye, yet none of her attacks exposed carelessness or a lack of control.

He watched with mild fascination as her opponent landed a hit against her chin, distracting her enough to catch her off-balance before she could counter his advance. The cadet was on her then and they rolled on the ground until his strength finally pinned her down. It was then, as he was trying to get a hold on her arms that the expression on Jyn's face shifted. Excitement was replaced by something more dangerous and unforgiving.

Krennic realized that the other cadet must have said something to her – something that mercilessly had hit home. Jyn started to squirm and snarl underneath him like a wild animal. She yanked her hips up, catching him by surprise. Her legs were free. She snatched his head between her thighs and squeezed. Krennic realized the exact moment Jyn lost it. Her fellow cadet desperately started to claw at her or hit or grab her but Jyn squeezed on until her friend began to lose consciousness, his struggle going limp. That's when her instructor's sharp order to release him instantly ringed through the air. Jyn ignored the order. Not just that: her hands made their way up the moment she loosened her hold around his neck and Krennic knew she would have snapped that cadet's neck if her instructor hadn't interfered in the last second.

The hologram flickered down, the last image being Jyn as she was dragged away, eyes still trained on the other cadet if she still wasn't finished with him.

Interesting indeed but also troublesome. Never before had Krennic seen her act like that. It was _so_ Lyra, so … _rebellious_. Her file said that both cadets, as was expected, afterwards acted as if nothing had ever happened. They graduated together. Cadet Timothy Vil applied for the Starfleet while Jyn was accepted for a further specialized training at the ISB Academy and Offices to foster her plans for Imperial Intelligence. She graduated after only two and a half years.

Krennic stood from his desk, his eyes lay on the application letter she wrote to him requesting to be put under his charge. She was elite. No question. And it seemed as if she had overcome her hatred and prejudice towards the Empire and most importantly towards him – that or she would put a knife through his neck the moment an opportunity presented itself. He didn't believe for one second that she had forgiven him for the role he played in her mother's demise. But perhaps all that officer training made her realize things she couldn't fathom as a child.

As he entertained a variation of different ideas of what might be the real reason why she wanted to work in his department, the comlink alert of one of his personal guards informed him that Officer Cadet Jyn Erso had arrived.

"Let her pass," Krennic replied, leaning back against his desk, arms clasped together in front of him.

The door opened. Like all Officers her steps were quick long strides that commanded immediate attention. Krennic watched her entrance from his position with a welcoming smile. It was easy to smile at her. She had her father's eyes.

Her gaze was aimed straight ahead. She didn't offer him a smile in return but maintained her military aloofness as all freshly graduated Officers did. Jyn, like so many others, would come to realize that there are many more forms of body language an Imperial Officer should know how and when to display.

"Ah, Jyn," he greeted her when she stopped in front of him, keeping a respectful distance.

"Director Krennic," she replied just as smoothly with a nod of her head.

He hadn't seen her since her graduation ceremony at the Royal Imperial Academy almost three years ago. They had shared a dance she had suggested. He had never seen her as content with herself and the world around her as during that day. The green in her eyes had been so full of life that it had almost been difficult to look anywhere else. She didn't look much different now – which, perhaps, should alert him the most. It made her inscrutable and that made her dangerous to have around.

"I take it, you have thought about my application then?"

Straight to the point. He shook his head at her fondly. "Would I have bothered to summon you into my office if I hadn't?"

Jyn didn't miss a beat. "I understand you have questions then that need further elaboration."

Krennic thought about the training incident. _Patience,_ he told himself, _no need to rush things._

"You have undergone one of the most rigorous and elite training programs the Imperial Military has to offer," he reached for the file behind him on his desk, opened it and without reading out even one single line – his eyes still trained on hers – he went on: "First at the Royal Imperial Academy and later on at the ISB, specializing in fields of Imperial Intelligence and espionage. Among the top of your year in almost every class. No records of misdemeanors or behaviors unfitting an Imperial Officer."

 _That,_ he thought, _or maybe Jyn was just too smart to get caught._

He remembered how he busted curfew during his time at the Galactic Republic's Future Program. He was as known for his nocturnal carousing as for his strong loyalty towards Galen, causing him to undergo more than one personal rescue mission. Yet, his instructors never found out. He never provided them with a reason to expel him.

"Was there supposed to be question in there somewhere?" Jyn asked and Krennic knew, if her father were present, he would have tried to shut her down with a warning look by now.

He smirked. She was not afraid to go toe-to-toe with other highly placed officials. _Good_. He liked that.

"Cesara Nestor, your instructor for your Advanced Technical Research classes wrote and allow me to quote: 'Cadet Erso shows basic interest and talent for physics but seems unable (or unwilling) to reach a deeper lever of understanding as one could expect.'" Krennic snapped her file shut and gave her wry smile. „Put into a more eloquent choice of words: you lack your father's brilliance."

„As do you."

Sharp. Yes. Just a different kind of sharp. "And here we are," he mused.

"Yes. Here we are," Jyn agreed, her hands fell from behind her back casually at her sides. Someone finally seemed ready to drop the act – or maybe the real act was about to begin. This wasn't Officer Cadet Erso any longer. This was just Jyn, beautiful, dangerous Jyn.

"If you were anyone else, I would have declined your application without even going through the trouble of reading it."

"I understand."

"Do you?"

She met his eyes. She was careful but not guarded. "Your influence and reputation among other officials of the Galactic Empire ensured my acceptance at both the Royal Imperial Academy as well as at the ISB without further complications – "

"And you repaid my efforts quite dearly with your excellent achievements," Krennic interrupted, brushing off her appreciative attitude almost patronizingly.

"You couldn't care less about my achievements," Jyn said, drawing ever so slowly closer, "and we both know everything else would be a waste of time. I wouldn't dare."

 _Her father's eyes,_ Krennic's lips curled, _but her mother's mouth._

There was less than an arm's length between them now. Her eyes – again trained straight ahead – lingered on his chest for a moment, before travelling up to meet his blue ones.

 _Ah. There it was. The subtle but still clumsy attempt to a more refined game._

She was still young but she made it abundantly clear what kind of warfare she wanted to learn under his charge. Krennic felt charmed.

"They say you are a master of manipulation," she went on and he wanted to ask _Who?_ but the way her eyes traced over his face told him stay silent. It felt strange. As if there were actual fingers, caressing his skin in an impossible tenderly way. "So I went and asked Papa about you." A sweet laugh escaped her lips. A memory of lighter days, though already overcast by shadows. "I asked him to describe you for me in one sentence. He said: 'My friend Krennic is a man who wouldn't lose a battle unless it would ensure to win the war'."

Krennic still hadn't moved an inch since Jyn had decided to close the distance between them. He thought the distant scent of warm stone and sunlight lingered in the air but he couldn't be sure.

Jyn cocked her head then, challenging him. "You want to know, don't you? You want to know what makes me think, I could provide you with something you want."

"Yes," he said way too quick and eager. He stood, straightening up to his full height, looking down at her smaller frame. "Tell me, Jyn. Tell me what it is."

"I will succeed where my father has failed."

„ _Failed_?" he inquired but she pressed on: „I will achieve greatness. I will provide peace and security for the galaxy."

„If I wanted to know what you think I want, I would have asked."

He didn't sound angry―he hadn't even cared to raise his voice. Still, there was _something_ there―something that made Jyn's stomach cringe.

His hand came up. He hadn't bothered to wear his gloves today. Feather-lightly his fingers began to brush along her cheek down to her chin. "Try again."

Her voice didn't tremble. She didn't even have to force herself to lean into his touch. "The smuggler Has Obitt."

Krennic froze but didn't move away.

"The staged rebellion alongside Saw Gerrera against the Imperial occupation of the Salient System?" Jyn carried on. Her voice came out proud and defiant. "You know how to manipulate the Imperial System to your advantage. I want to learn. I want to bring down the Rebel Alliance. Show me."

"I don't think you have realized what you are asking."

His hand on her cheek tightened and clasped around the back of her head instead, pressing her with one swift motion against him. The air left her lungs. Krennic steadied her with one arm but forced her head to title back until he could see her face. It was unpleasant but it didn't hurt. Not really. His grib was too loose to do any real damage. He didn't _intend_ to hurt and it showed. Besides, she didn't think there was anything left this man could do to really hurt her. But he was close - too close to stare at her the way he did just now.

"Do you know what the Rebels would do to you if they found out?" Krennic murmured against her ear.

"They won't find out," she said and resisted the urge to sneer. She wanted him to realize that she allowed him to control the situation. For now. She wanted him to remember that she could disable him any time she wanted to but restrained from doing so because of one sole reason: she wanted to earn his trust.

He swirled them both around: her hips suddenly pressing into the edge of the table and him against her back. This time a snarl escaped her lips.

"They will torture you - mentally, physically. They will press any last bit of information out of you until you can't tell any longer which was the truth and which was not. Maybe they will even abuse you. Certainly they will tear you apart, on way or another, until there is nothing left of you."

There was a crack in his voice but Jyn wouldn't know if it was a real one or not.

He didn't do anything more to her other than pinning her upper body flat down against the table surface. This wasn't about actual humiliation - it was about the helplesness she would feel. He wanted her to be aware what this feeling would do to her, what it might make her do.

"Before the end has come you will beg for death," he decided in a voice that was much more gentle than the content of his words.

 _How would you know?_ she was tempted to scream. _You are just a petty, spiteful Imperial._

He removed himself from her. Jyn spun around and found him still rather close and not at the distance she had expected. His eyes scanned her. Judging but not dismissing. She realized this was the one and only chance he would grant her.

"I don't ask you to trust me," she said. Her smile was smaller now, but there was no nervousness to it. "I ask you to allow me to earn your trust and if you don't want to take my words, know that I'm doing what I must to keep my Papa save. That's something we can both relate to, I think."

' _No_ ' was at the end of his tongue but then it shifted and suddenly there was more. The stone she had felt drop on her chest from the moment she entered the building began to lift. She dared to breath again.

"Timothy Vil," Krennic said, resuming his Imperial stance, hands once more clasped together in front of him. "You remember him?"

Jyn remembered him as much as she dared. Timothy had provided her with the necessary intelligence data to make contact with Saw Gerrera. "I do. We graduated together from the Royal Imperial Academy. I heard he was admitted to the Starfleet."

"He was found guilty with high treason and scheduled for execution tomorrow afternoon." Krennic's voice didn't betray anything. He merely seemed to observe her reactions.

Jyn clenched her fists. Each word felt like a stab: "He supported the r _ebel scum_?"

Krennic took one step towards her, eyes never leaving hers. Close-up his eyes were surprisingly warm. She didn't know blue also could be a warm color. "I want you to be the one to execute him."

The stone on her chest dropped into her stomach.

"Is that going to be a problem?"

They stared at each other. "No problem, sir."

She was rewarded with a fond smile and Jyn knew: This time he meant it.

"Good. Report back to my office by one-three-hundred tomorrow." He stepped around her towards the chair behind his desk. Upon finding her still standing where he left her, he added: "You are dismissed, Officer Erso."

She nodded – almost imperceptibly – and turned around. Jyn tried not to flee. Her steps thrummed in her ears like a wind of thousand voices seized in their death throes, reminding Jyn what she was about to become.

Her breath hitched as _his_ voice mingled with the others: "What was it?"

Jyn halted but didn't trust herself enough to face him.

"What was it Cadet Vil said to you that made you almost kill him?"

She calmed her nerves, telling herself this was her opportunity to prove him just how well she already learned to play this game and how useful she was going to be to him. Krennic would _need_ her – that's what she had to make sure of.

"He told me, he would defect after his graduation."

Silence.

Then: "Why didn't you inform any of your superiors?"

 _Me, you mean._

Jyn mustered up as much arrogance and venom as she could and cast a glance back at Director Krennic. "Because I needed him to become my secure contact to the Rebels, of course."

~oOo~

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 **A/N**

 **IOCIN** = Imperial Officer Cadet Identity Number. Consist of swearing-in date and place, day of birth/month/year and the cadet's initials. In Jyn's example: CO = Coruscant, 6 = 6th month according to the Galactic Standard Calender, 17= day, 08= month, 22 = year; EJ = Erso Jyn.

 **COs:** Prof. Horado Etars; Cesara Nestor and Timothy Vil. Everyone else mentioned is canon and part of the history of the characters as portrayed.


	2. No Salvation

**A/N**

 _Welcome back Dearies,_

 _Thanks a lot for taking the time to read and stick with this story! It's very much aprreciated, especially since the Jyn x Krennic ship gets a lot of hate and resistance. I am more than aware of the problems regarding this ship and I am not trying to ignore, justify or sugarcoat them. There are valid reasons to dislike this ship and I think we can all agree that as far as portrayed in the movie and in the novilization it is an unhealthy ship. This said I'm still intrigued by the potential of it if we throw the characters in an alternate version of their universe. Maybe I just like Krennic a little bit too much._

 _This chapter is (hopefully) going to explain some of the questions you guys might have had after reading the first chapter, like_ Why was Timothy charged with treason? What exactly did he do? And why is Krennic involved in his execution for some reasons? _It's also going to set up Jyn as a double agent and gives us a little bit more background information about her and Timothy._

 _If you have questions please feel free to contact me and ask them!_

 **WARNING:** appearance Krennic's cape, a lot of scheming, Timothy being a dork.

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~oOo~

 **Chapter II** : _No Salvation_

~oOo~

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There wasn't enough time.

Not enough time to circumvent all of the observation devices Krennic set up to keep track of her after he dragged what little was left of her family back to Coruscant. Not to mention the extra surveillance he undoubtedly put her under the moment Jyn had sent out her application for his department. Graduating from the ISB, undergoing the special training and taking additional classes pertinent to future Military Intelligence services – Jyn had made sure she was all over Krennic's radar with her profile. A heady tactic executed with utter most precaution and delicacy – and now, as it turns out, a fatal miscalculation.

 _Miscalculation._

Jyn drew her knees up under her chin. Her face rested but her mind raced.

Was that what Tim was now to her? A risk she should have taken into account but didn't?

 _Fight me._ Timothy's voice resonated in her head. _As if you wanted me dead._

 _No._

She should have foreseen it. He had prepared her for such a scenario during their time at the Royal Academy. Jyn always had smacked him on the shoulder, refusing to nurture such a cruel thought whenever he had brought it up, but Tim had never failed to emphasize how all of their precautionary measures, scheming and efforts would fall or stand with one crucial question: _What if?_ With what they planned – what if by some horrible, ridiculous quirk of fate one of them would be exposed? What if it was him? What if it was her? What if they were forced to attack and kill each other?

 _He was found guilty with high treason and scheduled for execution tomorrow afternoon._

Jyn hadn't even known that Tim had been arrested.

No one in their closer surroundings and their fellow graduates had, which highly indicated that all information involving Tim's case was restricted by rank. Meaning, she wouldn't be able to access any data about his trial on the Imperial network even if she tried to. Which left her only with little to no clues what could have gone so terribly wrong within a span of one month's time after he returned from an eight week long investigation mission alongside ISB Agent Kallus to find out if and how the rebel cell in the Lothal System was connected to the rebel activities on Onderon.

He had hologramed her afterwards, informing her that they were ambushed by a Lasat mercenary who worked for Saw Gererra. He had saved Kallus who had been knocked out by an explosion.

 _Saw and his men?_ Jyn recalled how Tim had shook his head in disappointment, his lip still split and bruises covering half of his face. _They are extremists, Jyn. They have become the very thing they had sworn to fight. He is no longer with the Alliance. The old friend your mother and father knew? Gone. We need to find someone else who commands enough trust and influence among the rebels to make them believe your father's message. The mercenary confirmed your father's suspicion, though: Saw is on Jedha. Hidden somewhere in the outskirts of Jedha City._

 _What did you do with him?_ Jyn had asked.

 _I did what I had to do._

About six months ago the leadership of the Rebel Alliance addressed a _Declaration of Rebellion_ to the Emperor, confirming that the rebels indeed pose a far greater potential threat to the security of the Galactic Empire than all those scattered rebel cells around the galaxy would have let on. True, the numbers of rebel connected activities had doubled in the last five years, but compared to the might of the Empire the idea of rebellion still had only appeared to be linked to a bunch of helplessly outmatched saboteurs and terrorists and not to a wider and much more organized movement. One of the first to bring this theory forth had been the governor of the Lothal Sector, Arihnda Pryce.

Tim had described her as _"even more devoid of any human qualities such as compassion, mercy and regard for innocent lives"_ than Krennic after the Seventh Fleet was drafted by Grand Moff Tarkin to assist Governor Pryce with the extermination of the rebel cell in her system.

 _A real charmer,_ Tim had added with a grimace and Jyn had doubled over with laughter.

It had been one of their better thought-out plans and for a long time it had work out perfectly: the year Tim and her had graduated, had also been the year of the fifteenth anniversary of the rise of the Empire and as one of the top graduates, Jyn and Tim had been invited to celebrate alongside high-ranked Imperials as well as Senators and Emperor Palpatine himself.

It was Commandant Deenlark who showed his elite graduates around, introducing them to possible future commanding officers.

One of them was Captain Thrawn. He talked to them and the more he said, the more could Jyn understand what made him such an outstanding figure amidst the Imperial Military. He seemed to be constantly thinking, analyzing and strategizing and though he was curious about them, he also studied them with alert eyes.

The moment though, when Tim announced that _Planetary Assault Tactics_ had been his favorite lecture, Thrawn had smiled a generous smile at him and encouraged him to contact him as soon as his junior officer service abroad the Core Worlds patrol ship _Thunderflare_ has been completed. In the same breath he had turned to Jyn and had offered her the same – the message sent to her on her graduation day proved that Thrawn had been less courteous than dead serious.

There was a high demand for well-trained officers since the impacts of a growing rebellion continued to destabilize parts of the Empire, but she was wary of that being the sole motive – not when two other offers had found their way to her Imperial account on the same day. One from Rear Admiral Motti and one from ISB Senior Commander Alecia Beck, which was the most alarming one out of this odd selection.

She wrote a message to her father, asking him whether this was a normal procedure to be expected when a Cadet Officer stood out or a most unusual behavior.

Galen's answer contained three words: _No. Be careful._

She was certain then.

It also had meant that from now on Tim and her had to use a encrypted channel for their communication. Their reports became fewer and less frequent but in greater detail. The light-heartedness was gone. The risk too high. Half of the Rebellion's foot soldiers were made up of low-level imperial defectors. Officers weren't that common. Jyn had wanted to keep it that way.

Tim had maneuvered himself into an ideal position: abroad the _Chimaera_ under Grand Admiral Thrawn, a capable commander and strategist who had already demonstrated with his victory at Batonn that he could pull the rebels apart. And then the Seventh Fleet was ordered to the Lothal Sector in the Outer Rim and Tim – after having saved Agent Kallus' life – was promoted Lieutenant. He had told her that operations against rebel activity on Yarma were under debate but since then she hadn't heard from him.

Jyn tightened the grip around her legs, bringing them even closer to her body. She hadn't even assumed that something could be amiss. She had trusted Tim – trusted him that he wouldn't do anything too reckless.

Her fingers started to shake.

 _He told me, he would defect after his graduation._

Jyn hadn't lied to Krennic.

The incident during their fifteenth training unit right in the middle of their fifth term had been as real as the reason that caused it: Timothy didn't say it to provoke her. It was real and she realized in that moment with dead certainty that she couldn't do it on her own. The mission her father entrusted her with – without Tim, without someone who was with her in this whole mess and on whom she could rely on, how could she hope to succeed?

They had talked about this beforehand, how they would stage this incident to give Jyn more credibility, to underline her loyalty towards the Empire when Krennic would demand proof of her usefulness to him. Tim had agreed to put himself on the line in order to play her secured contact to the Rebels. They had had to give Krennic something to start with but then, when Tim said those words right into her face – that's when the powerlessness started to take over and with it came anger. Suddenly the act had turned into the real thing.

In her heart Jyn knew that Tim wanted to go and join a cause he felt was right. In fact, she couldn't have asked more of him. But if she had let him leave, he would have left her behind, feeding her to the wolves in the process though expecting her to come out as their pack leader in the end.

Now she wondered if Tim was right and she was wrong, if the potential benefits really outweighed the potential disadvantages. The Rebellion was still _so_ fragile. One only seems to have to whisper about it and it would disappear. Their military abilities were undeniable, but their means and facilities were beyond hope and chances for long-term stability almost nonexistent.

 _Maybe,_ Jyn thought and it was a thought she hadn't admitted before, because nausea soon would follow. _Should the Rebellion be crushed and my cover not be blown, then_ _–_

Jyn shook her head, trying to wipe this doubt away. She couldn't allow to nurture it into a fully grown change of heart.

 _You are either in or out. For or against the Rebellion. There is no in-between._

And yet here she was, huddled on her couch like a small child acknowledging to herself that she still hadn't completely dedicated herself to the cause. Worse: that there was even a chance she would betray the Rebellion before she ever had been a real part of it.

 _Betraying by standing by and live on while the rebels fail and die._

How could she not loathe herself?

How could her heart not break?

 _Tim_.

A cold hand closed around her heart and she crouched down onto her knees and further and further until her face was buried flat against the floor. Her pulse thrummed against her ears.

Tim. Timmy. Timothy the Great, who was always astonished that his view wasn't everyone else's view. Tim, _her_ Tim – all super dandy and cotton candy – who for some reasons thought moss ice cream was easily the most delicious thing in the whole galaxy (though they both knew it was just because of the Froz whiskey) and gang-napping should be an official academy course.

He always treated her gently. Not because she was fragile but just _because_.

He listened to all of her silly bedtime stories with which her father and mother had lulled her to sleep without as much as a complain. He laughed at her jokes or snorted and told her that they suck. He planned and carried out most of their curfew-busting single handedly – which had happened almost every other night – without ever getting caught. Tim was the only one who wasn't family who ever saw her cry.

Sometimes he would say that she was the only thing that counted and sometimes she would let him think that. Only once she allowed herself to think it, too.

Considerate. Amiable. Daring. Curious. Dedicated. Fun-loving. Kind – this was about Tim. About Tim and what she could do and couldn't do, what Krennic would expect her to – and more importantly – not to do.

She had contacts. People who owned her a favor as well as some she could blackmail into doing her favor. One of them most certainly would find out (without alerting Krennic), whether Thrawn had bothered enough to transfer Tim from the Lothal Sector to the high-security prison here on Coruscant or if he kept him detained in one of the cell blocks aboard the _Chimaera_ – just, there wasn't enough time.

Not enough time to outthink both Krennic and one of the best strategist in whole Imperial Army. No time to wonder why there had been a trial in the first place instead of an immediate execution after the interrogation had been finished.

No time – only chances.

 _Life is all about chances, Jyn. They are offered to you ever day. All you have to do is decide which ones you want to take._

There was a high chance Krennic had already accepted her application long before she had walked into his offices. His department had messaged her the next day to inform her that the Director had scheduled her for an appointment the day after tomorrow – more than enough time to study Tim's file and to find out everything there was and is to know about Tim.

That's one thing Jyn could be sure about when it comes to Krennic: he was paranoid, particularly about all things linked to his projects.

 _Krennic is passionate about things important to him,_ she heard her fathers advice in her head, _Make him see what you are passionate about. That's the only thing he truly respects. And if you can't: learn to love what he loves, hate what he hates._

There was a chance Thrawn treated Tim's case with utmost delicacy because he wouldn't want the news of one of his own officers defecting to spread. It made him look incompetent in the eyes of other high-ranked Imperials.

Was the chance that Krennic had more to say in the matter of the execution than the Grand Admiral high or low? What was it that Krennic had to do in order to be granted to carry out the execution? It was suspicious, strikingly so. Jyn knew that Krennic wasn't exactly on best terms with Tarkin but what about Thrawn? She simply didn't know, couldn't hope to do the equation unless she had all the variables. She didn't even know why Timothy had been charged with treason. What did he do? What gave him away?

Chances, chances, chances, how high was the chance that executing her only friend wasn't the real thing Krennic wanted to test? And how high the chance that he dared her to snoop Tim out right under his nose?

Jyn remembered her mother having a heated argument with her father about Krennic when they had returned to Coruscant after the Clones Wars. One sentence stayed with her, though at that time she didn't know what it meant – what it implied:

 _Krennic! Krennic, Krennic, Krennic! All I hear is 'Krennic said this', 'Krennic said that'! Are you married to him or me?_

 _Lyra –_

 _No, don't lyra me! You can't look me in the eyes and say that you don't know exactly what kind of man he is. He would rather kill a friend than allow an enemy to live._

 _But he is also an Imperial,_ a voice in Jyn's head claimed. _Ambitious, yes, but he has forgotten his own atrocities – if he ever really realized them in the first place._

One of the first rules she learned as an Officer Cadet: you can do whatever you want as long as you don't get caught. The Imperial system was full of men like Krennic. The problem was: even when you are three steps ahead, they still can throw a stone and hit you on the head. Never underestimate. Never show weakness. Never allow yourself to open up.

 _You are among predators now,_ Tim had said to her one evening, after they had sneaked out of their dorms and joined on the rooftop of the Royal Academy for some beer and a breathtaking view over Coruscant while the sun lowered herself to rest. _Only let them see what they think they can use against you and then show them who the real boss is. Be cunning. Dance their dance. Some are going to lure you. Some are going to bare their teeth at you. But once you notice, the advantage is all yours. Maybe you'll sill die in the end – it's a dangerous dance after all and you can never be too sure – that's the tricky thing about predators, but at least you will be a permanent pain in the ass for whatever evil plan they concocted._

Jyn remembered the laughter that erupted from within her at his choice of words and how the beer almost shot from her nose when she choked.

 _Don't we all want them to feel the string until they drop dead?_

Yes. All of that. And more. They promised it. Pinky swear and all. Jyn hadn't even known what this was before she met Tim. They swore it on spittle – the real thing (according to him). The ghost of a smile hushed over her face. The lengths he would go to make her laugh – there were no limits.

Slowly Jyn began to sit up again.

The day would end soon and she still hadn't made any decisions nor taken action. She was in the game now and it terrified her to no end. If she gave in, Krennic would win. If she killed Tim, he would win. No matter how she looked at it, it appeared as if Krennic had orchestrated a set-up which only allowed one outcome: her failure.

Jyn watched the light fade away and the shadows grow. She needed to rest, get some sleep if possible. She couldn't afford to look weak or distracted tomorrow.

There was a friend who needed her.

As she stumbled to her feet, she felt something akin to reassurance forming within her, reaching out to calm her mind. She wasn't someone to back down from a fight – especially not one she and Tim had started.

In the end, there was only one thing Jyn could truly rely on: Krennic wanted what would serve his interests best.

~oOo~

The next day Jyn reported back to Director Krennic's office in the Imperial Center by twelve-fifty.

There were circles under eyes due to a night drifting in and out of sleep, followed by dreams centered around Tim's smile, Tim's eyes and – most of all – the feeling of him being a piece of home whenever he was around. She tried to keep the worn out look to a minimum by masking it with the straight, hardened expression all officers wore like a second face, but feared that Krennic wouldn't be fooled by it. Probably not even then if he hadn't years of identifying when she put up her brave front.

Nothing to be done about that. Let him see. She remembered a few occasions where Krennic's imperial demeanor had slipped. To see him revert to a state of pure emotion where there was no longer room for a disciplined, collected façade, had disgusted her. Primarily because she didn't want to acknowledge that her and the man in white had anything in common. Maybe she could use that.

Jyn waited outside his office room just like she did yesterday, hands clasped behind her back, shoulders straightened, giving of the vibe of authority and determination. Once again two Death Troopers were standing guard.

 _Intimidation._

That was the first thing that greeted any visitor who stepped out of the elevator. No sitting accommodations, nowhere else to go, to look, no decorations, just these two looming figures, commanding fear and respect just with their appearance alone.

A slight smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. The message was clear: _The Director summoned you. He is the one in control. That's what he wants you to believe even when he isn't._

To pass time and to keep her mind from drifting back to Tim, Jyn found herself assessing how many of Krennic's elite troopers she could take out before she was done for. Five? Maybe six? Depending on close or long range, close or open quarters.

She was just about to entertain the scenario of hand-to-hand combat against ten Death Troopers in a narrow alley, when the door slit open and a middle-aged, rangy man with very delicate features stepped towards her. There was a kind smile on his face as if he was genuinely happy to see her.

"Officer Erso?", he enquired and when Jyn stood to attention as a sign of greeting, he continued: "My name is Pterro. I'm Director Krennic's aide."

 _His personal lapdog,_ Jyn recognized with a flat smile. It surprised her a bit. She has heard Krennic mention the name before but always pictured Pterro as a greasy baleful sneak, just as incisive as his master. Her first impression was that he looked too appreciative almost to the point of humbled to put up with the likes of Krennic.

It flat out irritated her.

"I am afraid the Director can't attend to you right now but once you are dressed and briefed, you are to meet him at his shuttle on platform IC-07 by thirteen fifteen," Pterro went on in his soft spoken voice. "I was not instructed in any specifics of your new position – these you will have to clarify with the Director himself but I hope I will be able to answer any basic questions you may have."

She inclined her head to signalize that she understood.

"Please, come in."

As Jyn fell in step behind him, she noticed how blithe his posture was, how feather-lightly his walk. Not the usual tense behavior encountered by underlings. It made her wonder. What did it say about Krennic that he chose such a man as his aide? She thought of her father. It almost could be theorized that Krennic liked to keep good things close.

Pterro led her to a second room in the far back of the office, talking about the furnishing and some of the paintings as he went. It was comical to her until she reminded herself that she should absorb as much freely given information about Krennic's character as she could. Sometimes the small things held the most important meaning.

"May I offer you a drink, Officer Erso? Something to refresh yourself?" Pterro asked as he stepped back to let her enter first.

The question was almost enough to make her snap. _I am on my way to execute my closest friend and not on a god damn picnic trip with his Holiness,_ she wanted to spat but collected herself before even a trace was evident on her face.

She offered him a polite smile instead. "No, thank you. That won't be necessary."

He nodded, stretched his arm out in a welcoming gesture and pointed in the direction of a white table in the middle of the room. "Your new uniform has already been laid out for you, as well as your new weapon and your operating number."

Operating number? Already? The Empire worked swift and with precision and it was so like Krennic to waste no time with such inconveniences as bureaucratic processes, but it surprised Jyn still a little bit. It meant Krennic must have authorized and ordered her new identification number the moment he got her application – and made her sit through an appointment with him nonetheless.

This time she couldn't suppress a scoff.

"Anything amiss, ma'am?"

Jyn decided to not answer right away. She walked past him further in the room which revealed itself more as of a walk-in closet than an actual room. Lots of wardrobes and drawers and mirrors, all held in a white and grey coloring. She felt Pterro's eyes on her, taking in what must be by far as closest as she has ever gotten in evading Krennic's personal space. When he met up with her father it was always him who came to them.

She approached the table, her fingertips sliding over the polished surface until something else caught her interest. There was another table left of her and lined up on that table was a variation of caskets and boxes. Only one was open, showing off a blue velvet interior paneling and in it – standing out like fresh blood on snow – gleamed a kyber crystal. Her own one underneath her uniform felt warm at this discovery. She averted her eyes as quickly as possible and let them scan the items on the table in front of her.

 _Of course he would own kyber crystals. They are the epitome of what all his life is about._

The white officer tunic worn by members of the Imperial Intelligence as well as the Imperial Security Bureau seemed to grin at her. In particular the rank insignia plaque attached to it: a blue and a red quadrat next to one another.

The knot in her stomach started to squirm.

 _So, I am an Agent already._

Absentmindedly she began to trace it with her fingers. Krennic wasn't even present but had already introduced a new game to her. A voice in her head warned her to be cautious. If he granted her this position then it meant he expected something equally of worth from her in return – probably at the latest by the end of the day.

Her eyes landed on the data chip confirming her identity to any Imperial facility in the galaxy. She picked it up. It read _MI-042._ Her operating number. It was official. She was in the elite inner circle of the Empire now.

She looked up and found Pterro still in the doorway watching her. He certainly had seen the satisfied smile on her face.

"That will be all, Pterro," Jyn said in her officer's voice. "I'll take it from here. Would you please collect me by thirteen-five?"

"Yes, ma'am." He bowed slightly and left without another glance or word.

When Jyn was finally alone, she allowed herself to resume a more relaxed posture. For one heartbeat she just stood there, felt herself, let her thoughts drift and come back and in that one heartbeat she seriously considered to outright reject wearing the uniform.

It would send a message. It would also annoy Krennic. Annoying Krennic while Tim's life was at stake was simply not an option.

It was harder than she thought to remind herself to stay focused and to not confuse her amount of knowledge with Krennic's: only in her mind Krennic was an enemy – to him, she was his friend's daughter, trained and educated in the ways of the Empire and now its loyal subject. He had no reason to suspect her. That was her biggest advantage, her three steps ahead.

The change was easier then, her hands working on autopilot, shrugging out and in of tunics, trousers and boots. She only hesitated again when it was time to pick up the blaster.

At first it had stroked her as odd that Pterro had laid out the blaster next to the holster but then she realized it was intentionally: she was supposed to hold the weapon, to look at it, to feel its weight and the responsibility that came with it.

 _Well, someone spared no expenses,_ Jyn thought dryly and couldn't help but feel slightly bewildered by the fact that Krennic chose for her the exact same blaster model he preferred: a DT-29 heavy blaster. With only one exception: her handle was a greyish green color instead of a reddish brown.

 _He is marking you,_ Tim's voice teased in the back of her head and she had to agree. This was most certainly not standard equipment for a freshly graduated cadet. Krennic wanted her to look the part – even more probably since he had never before taken a young officer under his wings. He wanted to do it right and – as most of the time – exaggerated irredeemably. It was a beautiful weapon. No question. But the anxiety of undoubtedly having to use it against her own friend undid her excitement of firing a first shot.

She holstered it, looked down at herself and straightened her new uniform one last time with a tug. Then she turned around towards the mirror and took herself in.

She looked _ridiculous_.

There was no other word for it. White was definitely not her color. While it seemed to enhance Krennic's natural stance of authority – worn by her it seemed to put emphasis on all of her youthful traits and features, soften out all her edges and leaving her to look almost like a child who raided her father's closet and played adult. With her black officer cadet's uniform her face had looked sharp not gentle, her eyes almost dark not that light mild color they now harbored.

Her appearance infuriated her enough to think that it was a first test of some sorts. The uniform did nothing to make her look as one would expect Krennic's apprentice to look like, though that was what all of this effort was about: This was not only about the execution. Krennic was taking her along, officially presenting her as his to command to his department and other high-ranked Imperials they might come across.

 _Well, at least no cape,_ Tim chirped in and the very idea plastered a scowl on Jyn's face.

She heard a soft knock on the door and was almost relieved to not have to look at her reflection for even one second longer.

"It's time, Agent Erso. The shuttle will depart in ten minutes."

If Pterro found she looked ridiculous as well, he didn't show it. In fact, his face gave nothing else away other than a benevolent nature.

"Lead the way," Jyn gesticulated. "We wouldn't want to keep Director Krennic waiting."

The moment they walked out of his office, the two Death Troopers followed in three steps behind her and although they flanked her with the respectable distance extended to all officers, Jyn still felt like a prisoner. The fact that the elevator drive towards the roof was filled with nothing but silence and the occasional comlink message coming from one of the troopers, did nothing to lessen the feeling. Jyn almost bolted out of the elevator when the door swooshed open and a cool gust of wind brushed against her face. She looked up and was greeted by a couple of platforms floating over the Imperial Center, growing fewer in the distance.

Pterro took again lead and soon Jyn found herself embarking on a small cruiser transporting them to platform IC-07. Uneasiness hit her like a wave of warm air once she spotted Krennic's shuttle and judging by that lone figure in white accompanied by a squad of black figures, he was indeed already awaiting her arrival.

There was only one thing she vowed to herself as she disembarked and made her way towards him: _hold his gaze_.

She didn't care to look back if Pterro and the Troopers followed nor did she try to linger to long on the thought that the hem of his cape fluttered in the wind like a lost banner – all she concentrated on were his eyes and how they scanned her over once she was close enough for inspection. He didn't seem impressed by what he saw but didn't seem to want to burst into laughter either. Jyn wasn't sure if the latter was even part of his emotional repertoire. There was a frown, though, and it seemed to deepen the moment she tried to counter it with a soft smile.

She walked up to him as close as she dared, then greeted him with a curt bow. Out from the corner of her eyes she noticed Pterro doing the same. "Director Krennic, Agent Erso reporting for duty."

"At ease, Jyn," Krennic answered, returning her smile without showing teeth. "We are in private. No need for such formalities."

"As you wish."

"I take it, you found everything to your entire satisfaction?" he continued, almost sounding haughty about it as if there was no way she could be discontented with her treatment so far.

"Pterro made sure of it, thank you." Jyn remembered the new blaster pistol in her holster and added: "I admit, the blaster was a pleasant surprise. A gesture very much appreciated. I hope it as effective as it is beautiful."

"It is, be assured," Krennic said with a little snort. "It does have a certain kick to it."

It was such an un-Krennic like choice of wording that Jyn assumed it was a way of him to indicate to her that she could drop her officer act for now.

So she did: "I'll guess, I'll find out soon enough."

"Come then." He whirled around and Jyn hurried to his side. "We are expected to dock with the _Admonitor_ by fourteen-hundred."

"I wasn't aware Grand Admiral Thrawn has returned from the Outer Rim," Jyn commented carefully, while they boarded the shuttle ramp.

"He hasn't. He sent Captain Niriz to deal with Lieutenant Vil on his behalf."

That sounded suspicious. As far as Tim had told her, Thrawn and Niriz acted around each other like fire and ice.

"I imagine he was thrilled," she said in a flat tone and glanced quickly enough at Krennic to notice the slight twitch of his lips.

"I like to think of it more of as a test," he drawled, eyes glittering just enough with cruel amusement to make her feel on edge. "All superior officers resort to this trick once in a while. Helps to sort out the capable officers from the incompetent ones. Saves a lot of time and efforts."

With those words, Krennic had declared his game. _Don't fall for his trap,_ she reminded herself and to him she replied: "Still doesn't explain how the Director of the Advanced Weapons Research is involved in an interior investigation regarding the Seventh Fleet."

"There is nothing left to investigate, Jyn," Krennic said, tugging at his gloves as he gestured her towards a seat. He took the one next to her and she was glad that she didn't have to face him if she didn't choose so. "The sentence has been spoken. It is an incident at best now, forgotten already by the time the day is over."

She shrugged, outwardly unmoved by his argument but within her she felt anger boiling towards the surface. _Tim is not an_ _incident_.

Her voice, though, she kept moderated: "You must have noticed. High-ranking Imperials like Thrawn, Tarkin, Motti, Deputy Director Yularen … even some members of your own department: they have become more interested in your grand project than they should. And although, of course, no one is carelessly enough to risk anything until the immeasurable power and dominance of the battle station has been confirmed, they all want a piece of it now – in one way or another."

Jyn looked at him for the first time since she has started speaking. His elbow was popped up, gloved fingers resting against his lips in deep concentration. He was listening very intently. She hit a nerve.

"Galen entrusted you with way too much classified details," he growled and just like her, he realized the moment the words left his mouth that he had been too transparent.

"He had to," she insisted. "I am his daughter. He was more afraid of what would happen to me if I don't have the information rather than what would happen if I have it. I am surprised this has escaped your notice: It seems I was recommended to multiple superior officers who all offered me positions among their ranks."

"And you refused?" Krennic demanded, waving Pterro's question away if he would like to have a drink.

Jyn huffed, almost tempted to tell him that not everyone around him was a mindless fool. "I thanked them with utmost sincerity, but since I already accepted a position under your command, I felt obligated to tell them that unfortunately I would have to reject their offer."

She let him process the words, to fully comprehend the meaning implied. "It seems as if my father was right," she went on. "All evidence point to the conclusion that they wanted me, because of the role my father plays in your program and because of how easier it would be for me to keep an eye on you for them."

Jyn hoped this would persuade him. _Come one,_ she pled silently, awaiting his reaction, _Let it slip_. _Tell me something I can work with. Tell me the accusations against Tim!_

His eyes were still trained on her but he didn't say anything. As seconds passed by Jyn wondered if she had misread the situation and the amount of foreknowledge involved. Panic swept over her, making her clench the armrest of her seat. Maybe she had revealed too much. Maybe Krennic really didn't expect her to basically spell it out for the whole Empire that her loyalties lay with him. Maybe I was because the full extent of her actions had only hit him now: all her training, the years on the Academies, all her reasons were pushed by the determination to become someone he could have use of. She promised him her loyalty before he even realized that he needed it.

"You look tense," Krennic observed from next to her and the sudden concern in his voice startled her. "You haven't done this before, have you?"

Jyn spared him a glance. Krennic was sprawled out in his seat, upper body leaned back, legs spread wide open.

Her brow ever so lightly twitched. "I have been on shuttles before, Director."

The ghost of a smile hushed over his face. "Humor," he mused. "A powerful weapon, indeed. But surely you know, it won't be enough."

"Those ridiculed are always overlooked," Jyn told him and there was just enough edge to her voice to make it sound more as a threat than a warning. "And in the end those who underestimated them payed a high price."

"Your motives seem genuine enough but I'm telling you this now before we disembark and you are going to make a fool out of yourself and – more importantly – me. From now on all your actions will reflect back on me. I couldn't care less that you wear your new uniform with utter repulsion in front of me, but you will refrain from doing so in front of other superior officers."

Almost imperceptibly she inclined her head. "Yes, sir."

They sat in silence after that. A silence that obviously told Krennic more than she wanted him to know.

"Look at me, Jyn."

She did and regretted it. There was a very gentle and very open expression on his face.

"Don't do this." He tipped a finger against his temple. "Don't think about it too much. Everything ends if you question your own decisions. Captain Niriz doesn't know you were closer to Lieutenant Vil than you and your records let on and it is in your best interests to keep it that way."

"I know why you want me _there_ ," Jyn returned and swore inwardly at how impatient she sounded. "What I don't understand is why they want _you_ there."

Krennic wove gloved fingers together, an almost boyish smile on his lips. "When you've lived long enough among snakes you learn to read the warning signs. About two weeks ago one of my contacts informed me about a sabotage incident leading to the collapse of the entire holonet and channel communication systems between the ships of the Seventh Fleet. As it turns out, the breakdown was used to hide a transmission to a rebel cell known to us as _Phoenix_. It contained data about Galen's research on the potential of the usage of kyber crystals as energy resource."

"Hardly a secret," Jyn intercepted with a frown. "Any officer cadet is familiar with the basics of my father's theory. It's part of the Academy's curriculum."

"You see, that's exactly what this is about and why this transmission was overseen by Thrawn's officers."

 _Overseen?_ Jyn snorted. _More like your contact made sure no one else got wind of it._

"Hiding the essential information in plain sight", Krennic went on and she detected something akin to acknowledgement in his voice. "Clever. Very clever. The problem, of course, is that it's still specialized information most rebel foot soldier's are unacquainted with due to a lack of education." Jyn heard the sneer but most of all the contempt. "So Lieutenant Vil saw himself in the need of attaching a note to the data which implied that the Jedha mining operation is linked to the construction of a weapon."

 _Oh Tim, you didn't –_

"Convenient, isn't it? How Lieutenant Vil was also part of an investigation of a series of Mining Guild vessels destroyed by affiliates of the Phoenix rebels just a few days prior to the transmission incident."

"As far as I'm concerned all accusations against Lieutenant Vil rest purely on circumstantial evidence – "

"Which are not part of the official charges," Krennic interrupted immediately. "But you wanted to know why _I am_ involved in this affair. The details of Lieutenant Vil's treason are kept a closely guarded secret and justifiably so. I was informed though that upon his arrest, he killed three Stormtroopers and one fellow officer. He must have known that he can't wriggle himself out of the situation anymore."

So they basically knew nothing – or Krennic just didn't want her to know at this point. No new information that could help Tim. Nothing she could work with except for one thing: Krennic held the transmission incident back and why? Because he got Tarkin breathing down his neck, waiting for him to make a fatal mistake that laid bare his inadequacies as a military director.

That was one of Krennic's greatest fears: to be outmaneuvered by Tarkin.

Krennic leaned towards her and in a voice, way too soft for a man like him, said: "Since Lieutenant Vil is about to be executed anyway, I don't see reason to question you about how he knew such specific details about the Death Star."

 _I told you why,_ she wanted to hiss but knew it would do more damage than good. Instead, Jyn mimicked his move, bringing herself as close to him as the armrest of her seat allowed her to. The scent of seawater hit her. Coldness. Snow. It could also have been a frozen stream, somewhere abandoned and forgotten in the woods, drenched in fir needles and the earthy scent of resin. It always made her head swam a little.

"So, that's what this is about," she whispered, sounding almost alluring. "Grand Admiral Thrawn is testing me as much as your are."

For a second she saw a trace of approval blazing in his eyes, making them shining in a light almost greyish blue. "Let's just say Grand Admiral Thrawn is as much interested in your approach against the rebels as I am. If we do it right, we might be able to stifle this rebellion before it causes any real damage."

 _So they are playing along – for now._

"Director Krennic," Pterro's voice came from the left, "We are preparing for docking."

~oOo~


End file.
